A Child at Heart
by Mishil
Summary: He was born declared a squib, living as squib was worst fate than death, where most of his kind were treated like a vermin and a shame, Harry Potter tried his best to please his parents, his younger brother being the Chosen One, he was set aside and unable to receive any parental love and guide, a small chance that he grabbed and unknowingly, it became his way to prove himself.


A Child at Heart

Theme: Drama and Angst

Proof Reader: Ciel-chan (Thanks a lot dearest for taking your time to edit this, I miss you and Sebby-chan, hope to see you then.)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

Summary_**: **_

_**Inspired from "The Darkness Within" by Kurinoone, "Darkest Hour" by Lady Silverwings and "Shadowed Malice" by Oceanbreeze7.**_

He was born declared a squib, living as squib was worst fate than death, where most of his kind were treated like a vermin and a shame, Harry Potter tried his best to please his parents, his younger brother being the Chosen One, he was set aside and unable to receive any parental love and guide, a small chance that he grabbed and unknowingly, it became his way to prove himself. A meeting in the darkest hour, it became a chance provided by cruel fate.

* * *

Prologue:

It was now his chance. He knew it very well.

His heart beats frantically, almost like his heart was trying to break free from its small cage, as he felt that the thumping sensation in his chest didn't stop when his slightly widened emerald eyes survey the whole occurrence. The whole Potter mansion was in squabbles; the hallways were blasted apart and flames created by magic were swallowing the portion of his supposed home in a hurried manner. His senses heightened up when he smelled burning wood and fabric that glistened up in the warm wind, his tiny lungs tried to gasp for more air, his tired legs tried to take bigger steps as he felt the panic and fear bubble up in him spreading in his whole consciousness. At the tender age of seven, young Harry Potter had learned simple things that can assure his survival. Witches and wizards fighting all around which caused the whole place's destruction, ignoring them as he still applied caution, Harry finally found his younger brother in a corner, crying as he tried to make himself not visible to the eyes of the enemy. He felt a small tug of glee rise into his chest when he saw Damian safe and sound on the confines of the gargoyles, a few steps away. The happiness he felt was suddenly shifted into fear when Damian went out of his hiding place and went looking for their mother, Harry clearly saw the masked wizard who tried to hover broken pieces of shards and woods into his younger brother. Ignoring the sharp pain in his left arm, he being squib and cannot conjure any accidental magic, when broken pieces of woods and broken shards were falling into his unsuspecting younger brother, Harry's heart skipped a beat and hurriedly grabbed his brother and pushed him aside, and fortunately some Light wizard caught and took Damian and apparated him into a safe place.

Well, it was very good, his brother was now safe and sound and his father and mother will not get sad anymore. Everything will be fine again.

Then it was slowly but surely the warm familiar red liquid started to gush out from his body, Harry raised one of his trembling hand, a few seconds felt so long for him, when he started to feel light-headedness and his vision starting to get blurry as the minutes and seconds ticking away. Unable to remain his balance anymore, he fell down onto the cold floor without trying to lessen the impact of his fall. His gaze now focusing on the ceiling, as he started to wheeze for air, pain engulfing his very being, it was much worst when he received a Crucio for punishments, at least there was no blood loss for that . Most of all, he can feel the largest shard that was sticking out in his chest, the point where his heart was resting and the merciless blood flow didn't stop for every beat of his desperate and compensating heart.

Few moments passed by him, the surroundings starting to get quieter, at last, his lids felt the heaviness and started to close his eyes, the only sense that was functioning properly was his hearing, which he was very thankful of. He cannot remember the last time he was thankful for very small things. Strange things happened, he felt his whole body was starting to shiver involuntarily as he felt the coldness, causing his skin to form tiny goose bumps, and the cold wind of winter didn't help his current situation.

"Harry!" It was indeed odd, it was his first time hearing a worried familiar voice calling his name, and perhaps it was the product of his wishful mind, the longing of someone who can show him a sliver of mercy and compassion. Cruel fate seemed to favour him too much, not even once in his trifling existence, receiving any form of kindness was impossible, he was a cursed child after all, in his young mind he was always reprimanded that he was nothing but a shame, an abomination, a burden. But he, being an unusual child hoped that for once someone will accept him, if not, will display kindness towards him. "Harry!" the feminine voice became more louder and clearer as he heard footsteps coming his way, thinking that it might be the death was taking him already, for he was being a vexatious child at all, in no avail, he failed to open his tired eyes, it was very cold and he wanted to fall into sleep, as the darkness was trying to lull him furthermore. It was neither warm nor cold, did he feel nothingness when the darkness was lulling him further into slumber.

Then he felt very warm when a pair of arms enclosed him, someone placed his head into their lap, and heard her saying his name once again, "Harry, my child." It was a whisper, and once again he tried to open his heavy lids and successfully caught a small glimpse of the worried face of his mother, pulling him closer into her chest.

Worried? His mother? Harry was not sure of himself anymore. Never once his mother had shown him a worried expression, it was always cold looks and eyes hoping for him to disappear and he was sure that it was not drop of tears that was falling into his cheek. "Harry my child, my brave child…" she said and agony can be heard in her whispers.

He was a bad child indeed, he made his mother cry. Grasping for the last remaining strength in his tired body, he slowly lift his tiny arm and his cold fingertips trailed his mother's visage, his mind clearing off the worry that he might get punished for soiling his mother's robes and she was very warm. "I-I'm sorry m-mummy," said Harry in a very low voice, his mother hushing him softly as his throat was burning in pain; there was still a cut that interfered with his speech. "But I-I t-tried…" a small sad smile formed in his pale lips, darkness starting to consume him fully, unable to support anymore his hand, it fell limply into his side. His mother's hold loosening and once again the pain seeps through his heart, and conjecturing why his mother showing him cruelty, a benevolence which caused ripples into his peaceful heart.

"Don't leave me alone, I'm very scared…" he pleaded when he saw his mother slowly turning back against him, unable to speak no more as he gasped desperately for one last breath. He doesn't know how much time had passed away from the place where he was left alone, cruelty enough, but deep inside of him, there was a part of himself shouting in agony, where it was desperately grasping for something, someone but unsure of what would that be…

It was the night that Harry Potter had died and left at his destroyed home to be his last resting place, where his small form is almost cloaked by the whiteness and coldness of the snow falling mercilessly from the ground, without anyone who tried to take a last glance from his form since most of them were having hard time as it is, especially the rise of the Dark Lord and spreading his motive throughout the wizarding world.

Unknown to them it was the same place and time which the fate allowed him to fulfill his utmost desire.

* * *

**Author's note:**

This is will be my first Harry Potter fanfic, this story is only seven chaptered… And I guess this level of angst is the byproduct of reading angsty Harry centered stories plus my own angsty life. I wish to know what is in your mind. Thanks for reading!

And there would be my upcoming Tomione project. My current beta Winterblume is helping me out. :) Check her stories if you haven't read it. And if you already did, and need a support group after reading the Ultima Ratio, feel free to join our Tomione forum, and the link can be found in my profile…


End file.
